


Alive

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dialogue, F/M, Hurt, Introspection, Out of Character, POV First Person, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 22:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: Now I was yet another puppet in the hands of a fate that smelled horribly of failure, and I was aware of the fact that my surrender was close. I would’ve surrendered to that world that I had despised so much, to those barbaric ideas that had poisoned my soul to the point of extinguishing it, of spoiling it.





	Alive

_Be visionary and resourceful..._

What was the true meaning of being alive? Was that actually life, of was it yet another game of illusions that my mind had fun creating, since I’ve been a child?

I played with reality, shaping it as I pleased as if it was something material, as if I could actually touch it. While with the days passing I realized that all I had achieved was destined to become pure ash. It had served no purpose being sure that it was all going to be okay, that I would’ve obtained power, fame, glory. Respect.

Now I was yet another puppet in the hands of a fate that smelled horribly of failure, and I was aware of the fact that my surrender was close. I would’ve surrendered to that world that I had despised so much, to those barbaric ideas that had poisoned my soul to the point of extinguishing it, of spoiling it.

I was a woman who knew what she wanted. But it wasn’t what they all had in mind for me.

 

_…rebel and contemplative..._

I had always acted in a fairly predictable way, but I felt like that same predictability didn’t belong to the common sense. What I wanted was far from human, and I knew that sooner or later I was going to be marked as ‘different’, as a woman who had fought for what she desired, that hadn’t bore the yoke imposed from society, from family, from duties that seemed so ridiculous to my eyes.

This is what he knew of me when we first met, when he stole me from my dreams had threw me violently in a reality crude, violent, macabre. That same reality inhabiting my thoughts since forever, even when I deemed myself too shallow to go over the walls of a house which had taught me only to excel.

He had given me life, and I was forever grateful to him for that.

 

_…lively and profound..._

“You’re weird tonight, Bellatrix.” my Lord told me, sitting comfortably on a chair at Malfoy Manor. His eyes shone, which as of late was happening rarely. He reminded me crystal clear of when the Magical World was at his feet, when being a Death Eater was the most honourable thing one could ask from life.

A life which had shown all too soon the rotting of its roots, which had let us ruin ourselves in an endless fall.

“I’m not weird, my Lord. I’m just waiting.” I answered, lowering my eyes, hoping that my mind could escape his control. He raised an eyebrow.

“No, my darling. Don’t think you can play me this easily. You’re... cheerful.” I smiled, malicious.

“We’re coming back, my Lord. Slowly, but steadily. We’re getting back what’s rightfully ours.” I hissed. I knew how delicate the argument was, and how much he himself was reluctant to admit he was back, that we were finding again an existence lost in the maze of time.

But I also knew that him, like the rest of us, thought constantly to tomorrow. And that what he saw charmed him more than ever.

 

_…avid of knowledge and innocent..._

“When did you start using hope as a weapon, Bellatrix?” he mocked me, with that voice between the mellifluous and the sarcastic that I hated so much.

“I never hope, my Lord. Hope is for those who have something to lose. And I’ve got nothing to lose, I’m sure of all that’s surrounding me. My life is made of certainties.” the wizard stood up and got closer, taking my chin in his hand.

“Certainties, Bella? And what has the power to give them to you?” he shook his head. “You’re my most trusted ally. You’re the most powerful witch in my circle. But there are too many things you don’t know, and too many you refuse to see.” he laughed, as if he had just thought of something funny. “At times I wonder if behind this mask of yours, of woman who’s lived, you aren’t hiding still a latent innocence, my darling.” he said. I blushed, hit by his words.

“I know all there is of important to know, that is, what you tell me. I don’t need any more knowledge, because it wouldn’t be relevant to the goal of our battle.” I answered, clenching my teeth, trying to get back that dignity that he was capable of making slip away so easily.

 

_…brave and sensible..._

“You can’t really trust me so blindly. You know perfectly what I’m capable of, and you’re privy to my every move. But save in you at least the appearance of some qualm, Bella. I have no use for your fealty. I want your trust instead, that’s the only thing bringing you high, brushing the limits imposed by some foolish human.” he said, almost enraged. I was left almost breathless in front of this argument.

In the end, I was just a slave, a slave trusting her master more than she trusted herself. What did he want more?

“I’d give my own life to save yours. I believe in you, my Lord, I believe in every single detail of your plans, and in every ambition. I’m ready to fight by your side until it will be necessary.” I whispered, compliant for once, but with a light of heroism enlightening my eyes. He grimaces, still obviously unsatisfied.

“Cure your words better, Bella. I have no need for a dead slave.” he hissed, harshly.

 

_Always be some of all this._

“But you have a need for a servant like me.” I dared telling him, at the end of my tether. I knew he needed one who, exactly like me, embodied all the qualities a Death Eater had to possess. All which allowed us to go on, day after day, without bearing the weight of our guilt for the simple fact that we didn’t deem them so. He needed someone whose skin was willing to bear all the tortures and horror of the war, and I knew that mine had already seen far worse than this.

I had read fear on the eyes of others too many times to be unaware. I knew that many, after having declared themselves followers of the Dark Lord, after having received the privilege of the Mark, ended up drowning in remorse. And the only way out for them was death, or keeping their eyes low for the rest of their existence. I wasn’t like that, and he was well aware of that. But I didn’t have a use for his awareness, if I didn’t even deserve that respect which oozed from my very being.

 

_Be alive._

“Your right, I need you. And you’re the best Death Eater I could desire.” he sneered, with that expression capable of making me shiver, the only thing in the world to ever scare me. “But you’re a woman, and a strong one. You have to admit that you let what you feel shadow this strength of yours.” I blushed, which hadn’t happened to me in years.

His words made no sense. What I felt was a mere result of the complete loyalty to him, and it was also what kept me alive under the weight of that war.

“You can’t bring as proof the fact that I’m a woman to say that I’m not perfect. For I recognize I’m flawed, but not the ones you ascribe to me.” I hissed, showing openly my frustration and the despise for his words.

He was never going to understand, and I knew all too well. Like that old madman Dumbledore loved to point out to him, we were no fellowship. We were a realm, where there was no room for the simplest form of democracy.

We were Voldemort’s tyranny, and for him we would’ve died too, without any regret.

I would’ve torn off all of my skin right then, leaving just the Mark to show I was his, if he was to ask.

And he wasn’t going to, but just knowing that this possibility existed gave him over my life all the power he desired.

I lowered my eyes, unable to stand any longer the weight of his. It made no sense anymore.

 

~

 

_If your alive, you breathe_

I breathed deeply, as if I could catch in the air the smell of Bellatrix’s disappointment.

That woman had all she could ever desired, and yet she let herself being restrained by trifles. Those trifles which derived from being human. I hadn’t been one in years, and she still refused to see it.

Huma beings have the faculty of feeling things which were denied to me. Human beings let themselves being captivated by senses, and she was the tangible proof of that.

I wasn’t a human being anymore, nor I had any wish to be one again. I breathed, my heart beat, I talked and I acted. But this just made me a living thing. While all that was missing from me, was closed up, safe, in my most treasured possessions. All which made me human, was a soul deliciously torn apart just to give me this existence.

I was nothing but a ghost.

 

_If you breathe, you speak_

“Bellatrix, I know perfectly your value. Or are you doubting my capabilities?” I stood up and got closer to her, taking her face in my hands. She shook her head, defeated.

“No, my Lord, I wouldn’t dare.” she replied, but such a forced tone that I wouldn’t have need my abilities to know she was lying.

But I kept quiet, aware of the uselessness of any further discussion. I hadn’t gotten to that point with eloquence, but for the times I had made of silence my best ally. Talking with them had always proven useless, it had just served the purpose of creating a thousand illusions in their corrupted minds.

And I didn’t need it, all I demanded from them was a clear mind and no hesitations at all. And if Bella could be cruel as no one else in the world, it was also true that her shrewdness had at times being clouded by her foolish passion.

 

_If you speak, you ask_

“Then tell me what troubles you. Because there’s something troubling you, isn’t there?” I thought I could see her blushing, but I was almost sure I had imagined it. She _never_ blushed, for doing so meant possessing weakness, and Bellatrix had none. Or, better, she had only one. And I embodied it.

“What am I?” she whispered, sparing me a ‘for you’ that would’ve costed her too much wounded pride. I barely restrained myself and didn’t laugh, just because I had no intention to undertake a discussion that would’ve been fatal to her.

Questions can ruin an house of cards built slowly over time. And Bella was too aware of the fact that it was a question she shouldn’t have asked, I read it in her eyes, I read it in that shade of soul she still had.

_If you ask, you think_

Don’t think Bella, don’t do it. It was useless, you shouldn’t have believed that I was so foolish as to give in to any sort of charm you possess. I didn’t want for you all to think, I just wanted for you to act. The thought, reflections, brings only to madness, to wear down one’s mind in useless twists of questions that wouldn’t find answers in this life.

And you shouldn’t have looked at me either, not with those eyes expressing just rage, turned on by an inextinguishable fire. As if I was your executioner, without realizing you have always been your own hangman. You knew all too well what you were accepting when you vowed yourself to me, and there’s no recrimination to save you now, there are no words, there are no actions.

But you knew that, didn’t you Bella?

“You’re a servant, I think I made this pretty clear.” I said, cold as I could. Cold, as your face to my ruling.

 

_If you think, you search_

“And nothing else, right? I’m a Death Eater, I wear the Mark like Malfoy, like Dolohov, like McNair... like anyone else at your service, my Lord.” she said, daring a veiled irony, stained by a higher pitch of her voice.

Bellatrix Black, noble house, heart darker than her own name, cruel soul and killer by nature... and she still desperately tried to obtain something more from me, something making her feel she hadn’t spent in vain her years by my side; something telling her she hadn’t marked her skin for nothing, something telling her that her very same skin and all of herself belonged to me because I wanted her, not because she had decided that.

This was what made me the king and them simple subjects. I wasn’t looking for something to justify my actions, instead I followed an ancient instinct, almost animal, showing me the way. And I knew what was the right one to follow, for I had refused to listen to any advice, to listen voices different from mine. I didn’t need alternatives or anchors, whilst they wandered lost in a fog of whys which was slowly consuming their very existence.

 

_If you search, you try_

“Do you want me to tell you that you’re worth more than them? It is so, indeed, for me your life it’s worth more than theirs. Do you want to know if your different from them?” I sighed, impatient. “You’re not, Bellatrix.” it was true. For some twisted mental mechanism, I knew I cared fare more for Bella’s existence than I did for the others. But I was as well aware that this woman had to understand she was just a witch, just a Death Eater, just a woman.

Not _the_ witch, not _the_  Death Eater. Not the woman.

She had asked, she had asked the question which was worth an entire life. And I understood she realized she had been defeated, but I also saw that the need to ask, to have some certainties, had become too urgent in her, more than the fire burning her veins.

 

_If you try, you learn_

I wouldn’t have wanted to be so harsh. For some reason I cared for her, I cared not to hurt her. But after all, I knew it was not out of some strange form of affection developed toward her. I was just aware that a troubled servant, a servant who thought too much and who had clouds over her head, wasn’t going to be lucid enough to fulfil the purpose.

It was yet another proof of her resistance. A human being can stand blood, torture, pain. But none of them had yet learnt to survive the weight of humiliation, and she wasn’t different.

“Then all I’ve done, all the life I’ve thrown to the wind... I did it just to be on the same level of those cowards following you like stray dogs just hoping for you to throw them a bone?” she said, her voice low and poisoned. I smiled, devilishly. Never before she had spoken to me like that, and it caused me a sort of evil joy which I couldn’t ignore.

 

_If you learn, you grow_

“It’s time you learn you can’t have all you desire just because you deem it the right price for your zeal, Bellatrix. You should learn what is your place.” she hit the table with her hand, rabid. Her self-control was slowly fading, and I fed on it that night.

“My place is by your side, my Lord.” she hissed in between her teeth. I went close to her, until her ear was in my mouth’s range.

“Your place is where I decide it to be.” I told her, bluntly. I saw her clenching her fists and closing her eyes, as if she was trying her hardest to store an information she didn’t want to receive. There was something in her which wanted to hurt me, I could feel that clearly, and it was a delicious feeling. I loved generating that kind of hate. It was hate that built human lives, which helped them becoming almost immortal, immune from any form of despise. It was what I wanted for her to learn, that night.

 

_If you grow, you desire_

I was planting in her the seed of rivalry, which she had never believed she needed, in her foolish presumption of being the best, the favourite.

She should’ve understood before that I was not a member of the Black family, that I was nothing like her parents, ready to satisfy her every need for recognition, to nourish her ego to the point of making her sated with gratification.

“I’ve always done whatever you asked.” she tried to justify herself, in a last hail Mary. But she kept slipping, restless.

“I know that. But I also know that every time you executed an order of mine, you were expecting for your obedience to increase the reasons to make you more than a Death Eater.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Never expect something, Bella. Not from me, nor from anybody.” I advised her, pretending that my words were merely directed to her good.

 

_If you desire, you find_

One day Bellatrix would’ve understood. She would’ve understood that there was nothing to wait for, that no trepidation was justified. That she would’ve been special just when she would’ve stopped to think she was, the moment when she would’ve finally found out that the source of power was into being able to overcome her limitations and crushing her weakness, as if they weren’t a part of every human being.

This was all I asked from my servants, to do anything to become less and less human. But I realized the weight of their own lives and the shadow of death towering over them scared them more than I ever could. And Bella was proof of that.

 

_And if you find, you doubt_

“I wanted to please you, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t always believed in what I was doing. What’s wrong in that? Have I not the right to look for some gratification, from time to time? I’ve sacrificed all for...” she stopped, realizing she was letting her thoughts flying straight to her mouth, lacking the restraint she normally put on them. I shook my head, glad at least that she noticed.

She should’ve started understanding that the world doesn’t exist for the mere purpose of satisfying her whims, that no matter how good she was at something, perfection didn’t belong with the human race.

I felt almost sorry for her, for that surly look, for that mind where too many questions were starting to pile up, and I should’ve answered those if only she had dared asking.

 

_If you doubt, you question_

“You’ve sacrificed everything for me, it’s true. But I’ve never forced you. Your choices are a part of what you are... or perhaps you’re denying your whole past?” I asked her, alluring to the right point, as to sharpen the mix of confusion and guilt inside of her.

I felt powerful, of a kind of power never felt before.

The real essence of strength was not being able of making others fear you, but that because of you they started to fear themselves. And it was what I was able to accomplish that night, I had dismantled in an almost agonizing way her life, making it take such faded features that they appeared almost invisible to the eyes of my Bella, who kept drowning unperturbed in her unexpressed questions. A pure and absolute bliss for my eyes.

 

_If you question, you understand_

“I don’t deny anything I did for you, my Lord.” she answered after a short pause, her eyes low. I saw her lips thinning, and I felt her effort to give me answers that could please me, once again.

But she was starting to understand how that infernal game worked, where she was nothing but a pawn in the hands of evil. She started to understand that her own life would’ve made no sense if she hadn’t decided to vow herself to the worst of causes, to become slave to Darkness herself. What I saw in front of me was a slow metamorphosis toward awareness, horrifying as horrifying was her face right then.

She was building easily new pillars in her mind, capable of sustaining her right when she felt her strengths leaving her.

 

_If you understand, you know_

When she dared to raise her eyes again, I saw a different woman in her eyes. Still her face was stained by that usual smile which tasted a bit like complicity and a bit like madness, but I saw clearly that she wasn’t willing to give away a step from her days, that she wouldn’t have given one back to time. Consciousness and unconsciousness were blended inside of her, creating a thousand superstructures. I could see the recesses of her mind, as if made visible from a powerful spell, as if what was becoming alive under my eyes was magical, and not the mere show of human comprehension.

There were news to assimilate, and we both knew that.

We knew that time would’ve been our friend in that predicament, and I couldn’t ask for nothing else but a Bellatrix finally a little more similar to me, colder than she already was, less human than she was.

Strange how words can trigger such quick changing.

 

_If you know, you wanna know more_

“I’m ready for anything you ask me to do, my Lord.” she told me quietly, but resolute and sure.

I knew she was ready to do what I desired, exactly as she was a few minutes before. But now I couldn’t see any veiled light in her eyes, nothing revealing what before was obvious.

She was ready to follow her Lord, for once, not Voldemort, not Riddle. She was atrociously repressing inside of her any instance imposing her to let her feelings flow free, but control was a quality she didn’t lack, and once convinced it was her only way out, she had decided to create a solid wall around her heart.

And that I was the maker, was irrelevant. I was the maker of the woman staring at me, of everything she was, of everything she was going to be.

 

_And if you wanna know more..._

“I know, Bella. And you know you’re the best.” I said, indifferent, throwing her that bone she was waiting for since we’ve started talking that night. There was no reason to keep up that game of humiliation, no reason why I shouldn’t have given her what she desired.

She pretended that my words didn’t matter, but I was sure that she saw perfectly how I had measured them out, cautious to give her something, but still leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

That night, probably, the bond we shared had deepened, tightening stronger knots, but the important thing was that she didn’t know that.

I was proud of that woman, for some strange reason. She was the only one who truly believed in what we were doing, the only one who truly didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘fear’. And she was never going to know what wandered through my mind, or I would’ve lost her behind that damnation that are dreams. The only thing that was necessary for me that night was that I, with her, felt almost different.

Alive.

 

_...you’re alive._


End file.
